She's More
by blueblood357
Summary: Angela learns why her daugther has been withdrawing. One (possibly two) shot.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own anything. This is a small one (possible two) shot that I wanted to get out of my head so that I can finish 211 Elliott. Somewhat of a song fic. Hope you like it.

"Ma, come on… I said leave it. Why can't you just, for once in your life, listen to me?"

"Because I am your mother and I am worried… look at you…"

Angela throws her hands in the air dramatically before falling to the sofa next to her daughter.

"Well don't…." Jane interrupts herself with a simultaneous sideways glance, pulling her foot from underneath Angela, "…don't. I'm fine. I'd be even more… finer… if you would just go home for the night. Ok?"

"'More finer'… listen to you… what would Maura tell you about talking like that?" Jane closes her eyes. A slow grimace marring the features of her face. "Oh honey… I'm sorry. Now isn't the time. I know. I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit. You say whatever you want. Bad grammar and all. Just say… something." Jane shakes her head, eyes still closed. Her chin quivers and Angela wraps her arms around her oldest. "Come on, sweetheart, I'm sorry to correct you. I know you hate it." Jane shakes her head softly. "Don't be mad at me, sweetheart. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"It's not that, Ma."

"It's not what?"

Jane pulls back and slides her feet off of the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. "It's not you… fixing my grammar… or whatever."

Angela scoots closer, reenergized by the pregnant words. "Well what is it, baby?"

Nothing.

"Is it work? Was there a bad case? Is it Charles? Is it Hoyt?" Angela's voice drops an octave. "Jane is it Hoyt? Is he out? Did he threaten you? Did he threaten Maura?"

And there it was again. Her daugthter's face. The same pained reaction as before. Angela pauses for a beat.

"…It's Maura. Are you two fighting dear? Is that what has you so upset?" Jane tenses. "Oh you two will make up, dear. Just go talk to her. Tell her you are sorry. She is your best friend." Jane stands.

"Best friends…" she mocks, "we aren't 7, Ma. We don't have BFF bracelets and have favorite boy bands. She is engaged. He is her 'best friend' now." She exaggerates air quotes to mark her disgust then crosses her arms over her chest. "We're not best friends."

"Oh, come on. You two _are_ best friends. And getting married changes things a little but I still have a best friend! You may not spend as much time together, especially if they have a baby…" Jane reflexively hunches her shoulders and clutches her abdomen. The air leaves her lungs. "You don't just stop loving someone because things change, honey." That word swells her throat. It stings her eyes. She grits her teeth.

"Ma… leave it."

"Sweetie, you two will work it out. You are best…"

"STOP! STOP." Angela recoils as though she were injured. Her eyes bore into her daughter. But Jane's never look up. "We will NOT be _best friends_, Ma, because we never were. We were never… she was never… my best friend." Jane sits. Angela mirrors her. Jane drops her head to her hands.

"I don't understand what you are saying, Jane."

She takes a deep breath. "Julie was my best friend. Nicky was my best friend. Denise was my best friend. We were close for a few years and grew apart. I loved them all in my own way. We were best friends. Maura is… she isn't like that. She's… more."

The silence does more to nudge her forward than any prompt Angela could give. Jane smiles.

"Do you remember in 3rd grade when I drew a picture of what I wanted my family to be when I grew up?" She doesn't know if Angela responds. It doesn't matter. "He had blue eyes. Brown hair. He was tall. Much taller than me. He had these massive arms that I thought would be tough and protective. And lift me like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing." She suppresses a small laugh. "He was a fireman. I drew us two little boys. No girls. Because I liked playing ball and getting dirty. And I didn't want a daughter who wanted to wear high heels and dance. All that in third grade. And I still keep that image with me. That image that I drew when I was 8 years old. I keep it with me in my head. The perfect life. The perfect family." She raises her head and meets her mother's eyes. Tears threaten the edges and her mother's form blurs.

"I've always liked blue eyes. Hers are hazel. I like brown hair. Hers is blonde. 5 foot 3 isn't tall. She isn't the person I ever pictured. In all of those paint by number dreams that I had of my future, she isn't the person I ever pictured. So imagine my surprise when the image of my perfect life, the man in my perfect life, one day his eyes weren't so blue anymore. And his hair was a little lighter. And he was a little shorter. And one day, one day he wasn't like I remembered him at all. He was so much more than I deserved. He was witty and smart. Funny even, when you get to know him. He was a doctor. He was into theatre and art and history. When I thought of him I saw the person I was meant for. The person I was supposed to love. And eventually I stopped seeing him. It was only her. It was always her. She is nothing like what I always wanted. She's more." Jane's voice trails off, she is unsure of herself. Self-conscious.

"I've spent the better part of five years trying to critique her, compare her, de-value her. I've come up with every reason why I should not love her like I do. But it doesn't change it. It doesn't lessen it. It doesn't even sway it. I think it makes it stronger. More resilient. More real and terrifying. I got lost in her."

"You never told her?" Jane startles. Their eyes meet. Jane shakes her head. "Why?"

"I… I guess I thought I would scare her away."

"So you're…" Angela pauses. Jane holds her breath. "in love? With Maura?"

She nods slowly.

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli!" Angela is off of the sofa and beginning to pace. Her arms flail wildly. Her voice is loud. "Ya have kids, ya know, and you love those little morons more than anything and all you ever want is for them to be happy and successful and safe. And ya have a daughter and you dress her in dresses and you give her brothers to protect her. And ya know what she does? She jumps in front of bullets for a living!" She stops and turns to Jane, eyes wide. "Bullets!" The pacing continues. "And she never has time to be in love or give ya grandbabies but she is happy so its still ok! Then, praise the Lord, she falls in love…with an ENGAGED woman!" She turns to Jane again, wide eyed. She raises her arms out and drops them to her sides dramatically. "I swear to Jesus, Jane, you will be the death of me. You know the woman for 5 years and you wait to fall in love until she gets engaged! I'm sure that's a coincidence, huh? You never did like sharing your toys, Jane. This is just like the Play doh fiasco of '81. Never in my lilfe…."

"Ma…"

"Never have I wanted to crack someone a good one on the back o' the head more, except for your father, he was as difficult to understand as you…"

"Ma…"

"Oh your father… "she narrows her eyes, "I blame him for this. Went out of his way to give me heart attacks and you… following right in his…"

"MA!."

Angela turns and crosses her arms over her chest.

"First off… wow. Second, YOU'RE NOT HELPING!" Jane collapses into the chair and draws her knees to her chest. Angela takes an audible breath. She kneels in front of her daughter.

"Sweetheart, what can I do?" Jane shrugs, tears threatening again to fall. "You have two options. One, you forget about it. You send her off with him to be happy and you find a way to go on. Or two, you tell her."

"I can't do that. It'll ruin everything."

"It's already ruined, Jane. Staying close to her after she marries him will destroy you. We both know that."

"She will resent me. She is finally happy."

Angela took Jane's hands between her own. "Baby, I can't promise you that everything will be ok with you and Maura. I can't. I don't know what she will say or do and I don't know how this will turn out. But regardless, you have to be honest. Maura adores you, Jane. The way she looks at you and protects you. The way she respects you. She knows you wouldn't hurt her on purpose. She knows you better than anyone. She would never resent you."

"I'm gonna lose her, Ma." Jane's voice cracks. Angela pulls her into her arms.

"Or you might find everything you've ever wanted."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is the second part to She's More. It is also some semblance of a song fic. Hope you enjoy. I don't own anything.

The rain has been coming down for hours. I've been in front of her house for 20 minutes. Waiting for the rain to let up. That's bullshit. I'm terrified. 'Waiting for the rain to let up' is just a stall. She told me he isn't here. Some seminar or something. I wasn't really paying attention. To be honest, ever since I realized that this was serious between them, things have been different. I haven't been able to be as close to her as I was. I've just been withdrawing. She has noticed. She used to ask why I wasn't visiting as much and then why I stopped staying over from time to time. I told her that everything was fine and made up different excuses each time. The truth is that I was trying to prepare myself for what was to come. I needed to separate. And I couldn't bear to hear the phone calls at night. The "I love you's" and the "I can't wait's". It was more than I could stand. So we have been distant for close to a year. I can't remember the last time we sat too close on her sofa or shared stories in her bed. She reserves that for him now. And my heart broke a long time ago. But when she came to my office to tell me of the proposal, something changed. I saw the rest of my life without her. And it killed me.

My thoughts have kept me from realizing that I am now soaked and at her door. I've put my hand to the door to knock at least four times.

I turn to leave, but I remember Ma's words. And I turn around. I knock quickly before I lose my will.

I could walk in but I feel out of place. I hear her footsteps and she answers right away.

"Jane…" Her voice makes me stomach tighten against the flutters.

I avoid her eyes. My voice is sullen. "You didn't even look. I could have been a murderer." I know she smiles. I feel it.

"I know your knock. What's going on, Jane? You didn't call…"

"I'm sorry. I should have."

"That's not what I meant." Her voice is soft. "You just usually do. Come in, Jane, you are soaked." I shake my head. She doesn't push. She is gentle. Like always. But when I look up I see the concern on her face. Lines mar the delicate skin of her forehead and her bottom lip is drawn partially between her teeth. "Jane, what's wrong. You are making me nervous." I can't move. The chill of the rain has caused me to shiver. "Jane," she takes my right hand in her left, a gesture to lead me through the door. She doesn't pull. Our linked hands linger between us. I run my thumb over her fingers.

"You can't marry him."

She stiffens.

"What?"

"You can't… marry Jack."

"What are you talking about Jane?" She pulls her hand from mine and runs it along her thigh. My heart breaks.

"You can't…"

"Why?" I stare at my feet and lift my toes repetitively, nervously. "Jane…" I don't have the words. "Please…" Fear laces for voice. "Tell me what's going on."

"You… you can't marry him."

"I heard you, Jane. But why?"

"Because." That's not enough. Her right hand rubs down my left arm from my shoulder to my elbow. She steps backward through the door and gently pulls me toward her. When I am clear of the door she pushes it closed. I step back, hitting the door with more force than I planned. Putting more distance between us. I close my eyes. She replaces her hand, wrapping it around my arm just above my elbow and running her thumb along the wet skin there.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. What's going on? I've never seen you like this." Her touch gives me the reckless strength that I've needed.

"Let me." My voice is not mine at all. It is quiet and weak.

"Let you…?"

I combine all my courage, effort, and desire and raise my eyes to hers. They are wide but worried.

"Love you." Her lips part. I feel her pulse quicken on my arm. "Let me be what you love about him."

I hear her breath catch. It pushes me forward. "I would do anything for you, Maura. Let me do this."

She shakes her head and closes her eyes. "I don…. I don't understand, Jane." I expect her to pull away from me again. But she doesn't. Her fingers tighten around my arm.

"I want to be the one. Who gives you everything you want. Even a portion of what you have given to me." I know she understands. I wait for a sign. The tear that slips from the corner of her still closed eye gives me all the strength I need. Good or bad, it gives me strength.

"I want to be the one beside you when your dreams come true. Whatever dream you have, I want to witness it. You've shown me who I can be. Everything that I am capable of. And I want to be that for you. With you."

It feels inadequate. There's so much more. But when her eyes open and a stream of tears marks her face, I stop. She takes a shuddering breath and on their own volition my fingers trace the tracks.

"Keep going." Her whisper sends a chill down my spine. I wrap my fingers around the side of her neck and my thumb wipes at the tears under her left eye. She turns into my hand and closes her eyes once more. My heart has never been so full. Alive.

"Let me be the face you see every morning when you wake. Let me be the one to hold you every night as you fall asleep. Let me be the one that cherishes you. That finishes your sentences. The one that leads you back when you get lost. The one that does what you can't. Let me be the one to see the sun come up in your eyes. The one to hear your laugh and calm your fears. Let me be the one to wait for you at the end of the aisle. Let me be the one to promise you forever. Let me be the hand that raises your veil. I want to be that. For you. Because I love you. And I can't live with you. All of you. Every part."

My heart pounds in my chest. I've said it. And as the seconds tick by without a response I die a little. Then she turns toward my hand and kisses my palm. And she pulls me in by my arm and wraps her arms around me. She buries her face in my neck. And I stop dying. I stop questioning if it was right or wrong. What she feels. If she will hate me. And I let her melt into me. I feel her lips brush against the skin just above my pulse point.

She wraps her fingers around the back of my neck. Her right hand clutches a fist full of my soaked shirt at my back. She raises her lips to my ear. "I love you more."

And with four little words, I'm not so cold.


End file.
